You people are bloody heroes! Let me tell you a story. I got my liteflite II
back in 2011. Over these past five years I’ve just wrecked the poor thing.
It’s been submitted to the most brutal treatment you can possibly imagine. I
started out as a travelling busker, carrying it on buses, boats, planes and
trains everywhere from the Canary Islands to the forests of Slovakia to the
Sahara desert, throughout which it was beaten and bashed and thrown about in
every way you could possibly imagine. Atrocious things happened to it. Vast
indignities. On countless occasions it was jumped on, toppled lover, smashed
about, knocked into things. On top of that me and my friend would sit on it
three times daily to eat our supermarket fare and drink our beer. The outer
casing started coming off. The clasps got rained on and rusted and mangled.
But the damned thing still did its job perfectly.
After two years on the road I moved to New York and started playing in the
subway. Same deal with the smashing and tossing about. Then things started
picking up a little on the career front and I started touring. I started
flying with it regularly. It’d come off every luggage belt with new dents
and damage and yet my Martin stayed in tip-top shape. It once came off the
belt in Berlin with the entire backside bent and warped and tyre tracks over
it it. I suspect it got run over by a luggage cart. Still the guitar was
So the case had been performing a sort of silent miracle all these past five
years, but what really made me want to write you all was what happened this
summer. I was in Johannesburg, South Africa, and had a flight to Amsterdam.
I checked in my guitar and arrived in Amsterdam and found no guitar waiting
for me in the baggage hall. One of the worst feelings there is. I filled out
the forms and requested for my guitar to be sent on to Madrid, where I’d be
staying next. God knows what happened over the next week, but that’s how
long it took for the old girl to arrive. After a week of biting my nails I
finally received notice that the case was waiting for me in the lost & found
office at Madrid Barajas airport. I went over there right away. It was bad.
The case looked just dreadful. Huge chunks of plastic outer casing hanging
off. The handle had three different luggage tags and countless stickers on
it from being routed all over the place. I wish there was some way to attach
a photo here, because it’s the sort of thing that’d make your heart stop. I
opened the case and my Martin was perfect! Not only that, but it was still
bloody well in tune!
Really, you all are a force for good in this world. You’ve built something
that has stood up to more than anyone should possibly have asked of it. I
felt compelled to send on my thanks.
Meanwhile keep it up. I know where I’ll be getting my next case.